Sally over at RGBP writes:
It is the first of May, or as I have been concentrating on dialogue with folk interested in the new spirituality movement this last week, it is Beltane, a time to celebrate the beginning of summer. The BBC web-site tells us that:
Beltane is a Celtic word which means 'fires of Bel' (Bel was a Celtic deity). It is a fire festival that celebrates of the coming of summer and the fertility of the coming year.
Celtic festivals often tied in with the needs of the community. In spring time, at the beginning of the farming calendar, everybody would be hoping for a fruitful year for their families and fields.
Beltane rituals would often include courting: for example, young men and women collecting blossoms in the woods and lighting fires in the evening. These rituals would often lead to matches and marriages, either immediately in the coming summer or autumn.
Another advert for a TV programme that has caught my eye on the UK's Channel 4 this weekend is called Love, Life and leaving; and is a look at the importance of celebrating the seasons of life through ritual and in the public eye, hence marriages, baptisms and funerals.
I believe that we live in a ritually impoverished culture, where we have few reasons for real celebration, and marking the passages of life;
So
1. Are ritual markings of birth marriage and death important to you?
I love rituals. I belong to the Order of St. Luke, which is a group of mostly United Methodists, a dispersed religious order dedicated to sacramental and liturgical scholarship, teaching, and practice. So, good liturgy is very important to me, and I like to celebrate these life passages with it. I echo Auntie Knickers in that I do wish there were ways to recognize birth other than baptism, especially since several of my children died before birth and were not able to be baptized.
2. Share a favourite liturgy/ practice.
I celebrated my first infant baptism last weekend, and it was a high point of my ministry to date. The little boy sat calmly and wonderingly in my arms as I scooped the water over his head with my hand. It was beautiful.
3. If you could invent ( or have invented) a ritual what is it for?
I also agree with Sally here - I would love to develop a ritual for "coming of age" that would recognize the journey an adolescent has made to date, and the importance of their own decision to follow their faith. Jews have the bar/bat mitzvah, but our confirmation services pale in comparison, especially in the United Methodist church. My Episcopalian friend celebrated something called "Rite 13" with her son last week, I would like to find out more about that!
4. What do you think of making connections with neo-pagan / ancient festivals? Have you done this and how?
I have really not done much with ancient cultures at all. I have been in a church that has a large African-American population for about 6 years now, and I enjoy the ways we introduce some of that culture into our worship, especially through music and altar art. I think we need to be aware of and inclusive of non-Euro culture as we create worship. I am enjoying reading about your experiences, though, Sally!
5. Celebrating is important, what and where would your ideal celebration be?
Wow - I love parties, and with our 20th Wedding Anniversary coming up, I can envision a celebration like this:
Early morning outside worship and walking the labyrinth, followed by worship with Eucharist and renewal of vows, followed by a big dance party to 80s music!
Thanks Sally, this was fun, but it is way too late! WIsh I had come in earlier!
Friday, May 1, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Friday Five - Signs of Hope
Today's Friday Five from RevGalBlogPals is from Songbird, who lives in Maine and is one of my favorite bloggers. She writes:
My beloved speaks and says to me: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. Song of Solomon 2:10-13
In the late, late winter, as the snow begins to recede here in Maine, we begin to look almost desperately for signs of spring, signs of hope that the weather has turned and a new day is on the horizon. For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, Easter and Spring twine inextricably, the crocuses and daffodils peeking through the Earth as we await the risen Christ.
Share with us five signs of hope that you can see today or have experienced in the past.
Well, if someone living in Maine can be hopeful about spring, I here in Ohio should be able to be too! So here goes:
1. Sun! We had a very gray fall and early winter, but for the past couple of weeks, we have seen more of the sun - and even today, that deep blue sky that I used to see in New England. No matter how cold it is (it is in the 20s today!) the sun reminds me that spring is coming.
2. This morning on our walk, my friend and I saw the first Great Blue Heron who returned to the lake near our house. I have in the past counted up to 14 here, and it is always a treat to see them, so majestic, walking in the shallows. We live in the city, so it is even more of a treat that they come visit us here.
3. Spring Break! This afternoon begins a week of spring break for Skye and Freckleface, and Brown Eyes gets two weeks beginning today as well. We aren't going anywhere, but we will watch movies, sleep in, and just enjoy each other, I hope!
4. Soccer! I started playing soccer with a group of moms about 1.5 years ago, and next weekend we will try to begin our outdoor season. I am amazed at how much I enjoy this hour on Saturday mornings, running around and playing a game I have never played before. We are supportive of one another, play for fun, play hard, and have a great time. Two weeks ago, the coach of our high school boys team found out about us and offered free footskills clinics for us, so we have been in the gym the last two Tuesday nights - what a great opportunity!
5. M - the little boy I have been tutoring on Friday mornings - was very excited to read a book well above his level today. He worked hard to read every word, repeated the ones he couldn't get at first, and went back to the classroom literally hugging the book. As I went to leave - he showed me a butterfly he had cut out and colored. With a grin he said "I did this for you!"...I will keep that butterfly above my desk this spring as a sure sign of hope.
Thanks Songbird!
Friday, March 13, 2009
A guest blog from Starman
Hi folks, I wanted to post this Lenten reflection from Starman, well, just because I really like it! It talks about things I have been thinking about a lot, especially after reading a recent post written by my friend WisePastor which you can find at his blog Electric Circuit Rider. Let me know what you think:
On occasion I am asked "What does a scientist see in religion?" For
years my response to this has been to wonder aloud why anyone should
care what a scientist thinks on this subject? Why should it matter
more than, say, a lawyer or a doctor or a factory worker or a letter
carrier? Why should my opinion on this subject matter to anyone in
particular? You should go ask an expert.
Lately, however, in the popular culture we see articles and books by
people who seem "speak for science" on these issues. So it is worth
remarking simply that there is no consensus among scientist on any of
these issues despite what you may be reading.
Science is an amazing and wonderful thing, and if you ask me about it
sometime, I will happily give you an earful. As a species and as a
culture, we literally owe every major aspect of our modern lives to
the impact of science and associated technology, and this has been a
huge benefit to humanity. (Yes, the modern world has its multifold
dangers and problems, but we really do not want to go back to living
in a world where life expectancy is less than 40 years and most
children die of hunger or disease before reaching adolescence.)
Science as we now know it depends on two things (1) the historical
discovery and codification of the "scientific method" a few hundred
years ago, and (2) the happy fact that our universe seems to be
governed by a relatively small number of mathematical rules -- rules
that can be inferred and verified by careful observation and
measurement.
Science is a powerful tool for finding detailed answers to all kinds
of important well-structured problems. But science does not help that
much to help us solve a wide range of ill-structured problems. We can
use science to predict to six decimal places where a given electron is
likely to appear. But we cannot use science to help us much in
deciding what career to choose, how to spend our time, who to marry,
who to vote for, and what the right and just thing to do is in any
given situation. For all kinds of important and challenging problems
that we face every day, science comes up short.
By the way I am not comfortable with some idea of "God of the gaps",
and I find very uncompelling this idea that there are some things that
can be explained by science while other things cannot. In fact, it
seems to me that science is extremely comprehensive when it comes to
"explaining" pretty much every aspect of our existence. Science tells
us that all of our thoughts and feelings result from a series of
complicated interactions between the neuron cells in our brains.
Science further tells us that the human animal, like all other
animals, has evolved from earlier species, and that all life is
governed by the genetic information encoded by the DNA in our cells
which follows rigorously the rules of chemistry that in turn result
from the fundamental properties of sub atomic matter and energy. This
"story of science" is supported by a vast structure of interlocking
observational evidence. This story that tells us that who we as human
creatures, and what we are made of are governed from top to bottom by
the fundamental mathematical laws. I feel strongly that this "story
of science" is important for every person to know about, even those
people who have no direct connection to science. For example, if
tomorrow morning the physicists at CERN make a discovert that allows
for a new theory to accounts for every particle ever observed -- a new
Theory of Everything -- then such a discovery will almost certainly
have huge practical impact, leading to great new technical innovations
and new discoveries that can be used to make the world a better place.
But we need more than an explanation. Even a Theory of Everything
will not help anyone understand how to live a compassionate and
fulfilling life. If I am wracked by guilt, unable to forgive the
person who hurt me, or paralyzed by an ethical dilemma, then any
"explanation" -- that all of these experiences are a by-product of
certain patterns of firing synapses in my brain -- is not actually
going to help me cope with what I am experiencing. It's not that
science fails to explain, it's just that explanations by themselves do
not actually solve our problems.
During the season of Lent, we are asked to turn inward and to reflect
on our faith. We are all on a journey of life, and the real questions
about God are not primarily concerned with whether or not there is any
scientific evidence to support or deny God's existence (there isn't).
And despite what you may have heard from Intelligent Design advocates,
it's not about finding unsolved scientific mysteries or documenting
miracles or anything else that seems to demonstrate how faith in God
trumps the laws of science. In my view none of these things gets at
the heart of the matter which is this: What is your relationship with
God and what does this mean in terms of how you will live your life?
This is what we are asked to reflect on during Lent, and indeed for
all our lives.
What is your relationship with God and what does this mean in terms of
how you will live your life? How will you answer this ill-structured,
knotty and sometimes messy and difficult question? As Christians we
look to Jesus, what he said and what he taught us to help us answer
this question. The life of Jesus, the value of the church community,
and the message we share with the world by our love.
To me it is an amazing and wonderful paradox that even though we all
journey through life alone, we also journey together. What is your
relationship with God and what does this mean in terms of how you will
live your life? Each of us must answer this for ourselves. Each of
us will have a unique answer. And yet, we come together to share in
our journeys. We find common ground even through our differences, and
this common ground is what it is all about. When we come to worship
and prayer, when we turn to God, and we turn to each other, we do so
not because we are seeking explanations, scientific or otherwise, for
it all. (Indeed, I am very suspicious of anyone using a religious
argument to "explain" something). Instead, we come to God for meaning.
We come to God to understand who we are and why we are here. We come
to God to help us cope with the pain and injustice of our world, to
cope with broken relationship and broken dreams, to help us face our
own too-obvious flaws. We come to God with gratitude, the joy of
life, the support of family and loved ones. We come to God to learn
what we must do to work together to make the world a better place, how
we must share with others, and what it means to love your neighbor.
Feed my sheep, said Jesus.
My two cents.
Can I just say, I love this man?
On occasion I am asked "What does a scientist see in religion?" For
years my response to this has been to wonder aloud why anyone should
care what a scientist thinks on this subject? Why should it matter
more than, say, a lawyer or a doctor or a factory worker or a letter
carrier? Why should my opinion on this subject matter to anyone in
particular? You should go ask an expert.
Lately, however, in the popular culture we see articles and books by
people who seem "speak for science" on these issues. So it is worth
remarking simply that there is no consensus among scientist on any of
these issues despite what you may be reading.
Science is an amazing and wonderful thing, and if you ask me about it
sometime, I will happily give you an earful. As a species and as a
culture, we literally owe every major aspect of our modern lives to
the impact of science and associated technology, and this has been a
huge benefit to humanity. (Yes, the modern world has its multifold
dangers and problems, but we really do not want to go back to living
in a world where life expectancy is less than 40 years and most
children die of hunger or disease before reaching adolescence.)
Science as we now know it depends on two things (1) the historical
discovery and codification of the "scientific method" a few hundred
years ago, and (2) the happy fact that our universe seems to be
governed by a relatively small number of mathematical rules -- rules
that can be inferred and verified by careful observation and
measurement.
Science is a powerful tool for finding detailed answers to all kinds
of important well-structured problems. But science does not help that
much to help us solve a wide range of ill-structured problems. We can
use science to predict to six decimal places where a given electron is
likely to appear. But we cannot use science to help us much in
deciding what career to choose, how to spend our time, who to marry,
who to vote for, and what the right and just thing to do is in any
given situation. For all kinds of important and challenging problems
that we face every day, science comes up short.
By the way I am not comfortable with some idea of "God of the gaps",
and I find very uncompelling this idea that there are some things that
can be explained by science while other things cannot. In fact, it
seems to me that science is extremely comprehensive when it comes to
"explaining" pretty much every aspect of our existence. Science tells
us that all of our thoughts and feelings result from a series of
complicated interactions between the neuron cells in our brains.
Science further tells us that the human animal, like all other
animals, has evolved from earlier species, and that all life is
governed by the genetic information encoded by the DNA in our cells
which follows rigorously the rules of chemistry that in turn result
from the fundamental properties of sub atomic matter and energy. This
"story of science" is supported by a vast structure of interlocking
observational evidence. This story that tells us that who we as human
creatures, and what we are made of are governed from top to bottom by
the fundamental mathematical laws. I feel strongly that this "story
of science" is important for every person to know about, even those
people who have no direct connection to science. For example, if
tomorrow morning the physicists at CERN make a discovert that allows
for a new theory to accounts for every particle ever observed -- a new
Theory of Everything -- then such a discovery will almost certainly
have huge practical impact, leading to great new technical innovations
and new discoveries that can be used to make the world a better place.
But we need more than an explanation. Even a Theory of Everything
will not help anyone understand how to live a compassionate and
fulfilling life. If I am wracked by guilt, unable to forgive the
person who hurt me, or paralyzed by an ethical dilemma, then any
"explanation" -- that all of these experiences are a by-product of
certain patterns of firing synapses in my brain -- is not actually
going to help me cope with what I am experiencing. It's not that
science fails to explain, it's just that explanations by themselves do
not actually solve our problems.
During the season of Lent, we are asked to turn inward and to reflect
on our faith. We are all on a journey of life, and the real questions
about God are not primarily concerned with whether or not there is any
scientific evidence to support or deny God's existence (there isn't).
And despite what you may have heard from Intelligent Design advocates,
it's not about finding unsolved scientific mysteries or documenting
miracles or anything else that seems to demonstrate how faith in God
trumps the laws of science. In my view none of these things gets at
the heart of the matter which is this: What is your relationship with
God and what does this mean in terms of how you will live your life?
This is what we are asked to reflect on during Lent, and indeed for
all our lives.
What is your relationship with God and what does this mean in terms of
how you will live your life? How will you answer this ill-structured,
knotty and sometimes messy and difficult question? As Christians we
look to Jesus, what he said and what he taught us to help us answer
this question. The life of Jesus, the value of the church community,
and the message we share with the world by our love.
To me it is an amazing and wonderful paradox that even though we all
journey through life alone, we also journey together. What is your
relationship with God and what does this mean in terms of how you will
live your life? Each of us must answer this for ourselves. Each of
us will have a unique answer. And yet, we come together to share in
our journeys. We find common ground even through our differences, and
this common ground is what it is all about. When we come to worship
and prayer, when we turn to God, and we turn to each other, we do so
not because we are seeking explanations, scientific or otherwise, for
it all. (Indeed, I am very suspicious of anyone using a religious
argument to "explain" something). Instead, we come to God for meaning.
We come to God to understand who we are and why we are here. We come
to God to help us cope with the pain and injustice of our world, to
cope with broken relationship and broken dreams, to help us face our
own too-obvious flaws. We come to God with gratitude, the joy of
life, the support of family and loved ones. We come to God to learn
what we must do to work together to make the world a better place, how
we must share with others, and what it means to love your neighbor.
Feed my sheep, said Jesus.
My two cents.
Can I just say, I love this man?
Friday Five - MidLent Check In
Can it really be the middle of Lent? Over at RevGalBlogPals, Sophia writes:
So here's an invitation to check in on the state of your spirit midway through "this joyful season where we prepare to celebrate the paschal mystery with mind and heart renewed" (Roman Missal). Hopefully there's a good deal of grace, and not too much crisis, in your mid-Lenten experience!
1. Did you give up, or take on, anything special for Lent this year?
I am trying to do several things this Lent. I want to develop a time for devotion, separate from my daily dog walks/pray-as-you-go sessions, so I have been trying to spend some time each night on my knees in prayer, and then some time journaling. This has been working out ok, probably 5 nights of 7. Not bad. I wish it could be better. A couple of things I have tried (like limiting facebooking to 1x a day, and playing my guitar) have utterly failed. BUT at least I have learned something about myself - I need and crave social interaction, and if I don't get it then I will seek it out via electronic means. Now to figure out WHY that is so important to me (is it that I am unsure of myself? Is it that I am avoiding things I really need to do?)
2. Have you been able to stay with your original plans, or has life gotten in the way? see above!
3. Has God had any surprising blessings for you during this Lent?
I wish I could say yes. Learning more about myself has been a blessing, but in many ways I am still stuck in some same old ruts, that I need to get out of.
4. What is on your inner and/or outer agenda for the remainder of Lent and Holy Week?
I am planning a meeting with my spiritual director, whom I have not seen for about 6 months. And I am ordering a copy of Kathleen Norris' Acedia today - I am surely suffering from this malady/sin, and I want to deal with it! I will continue to work on my evening devotions, but some of my daily agenda stuff needs to change. Writing a sermon all in one day (Thursday) to preach on Saturday really isn't working! I need to come up with a better pattern, that still fits with the girls' and our family schedules.
5. Where do you most long to see resurrection, in your life and/or in the world, this Easter?
Ah. I long to feel an inner spring that has nothing to do with the miserable weather. I long to be a more empathetic mom. I long to become a better preacher and really feel I have a good word to give to the people each week. I long for our church to know how much it has to offer, and to offer that to the world.
Bonus: Share a favorite scripture, prayer, poem, artwork, or musical selection that speaks Lenten spring to your heart.
This song came up on my iPod this morning and I realized it is all about where I am right now:
The words really fit my life, and how I feel, straying again and again,
Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.
2. Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.
3. O to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.
Thank you Sophia!
So here's an invitation to check in on the state of your spirit midway through "this joyful season where we prepare to celebrate the paschal mystery with mind and heart renewed" (Roman Missal). Hopefully there's a good deal of grace, and not too much crisis, in your mid-Lenten experience!
1. Did you give up, or take on, anything special for Lent this year?
I am trying to do several things this Lent. I want to develop a time for devotion, separate from my daily dog walks/pray-as-you-go sessions, so I have been trying to spend some time each night on my knees in prayer, and then some time journaling. This has been working out ok, probably 5 nights of 7. Not bad. I wish it could be better. A couple of things I have tried (like limiting facebooking to 1x a day, and playing my guitar) have utterly failed. BUT at least I have learned something about myself - I need and crave social interaction, and if I don't get it then I will seek it out via electronic means. Now to figure out WHY that is so important to me (is it that I am unsure of myself? Is it that I am avoiding things I really need to do?)
2. Have you been able to stay with your original plans, or has life gotten in the way? see above!
3. Has God had any surprising blessings for you during this Lent?
I wish I could say yes. Learning more about myself has been a blessing, but in many ways I am still stuck in some same old ruts, that I need to get out of.
4. What is on your inner and/or outer agenda for the remainder of Lent and Holy Week?
I am planning a meeting with my spiritual director, whom I have not seen for about 6 months. And I am ordering a copy of Kathleen Norris' Acedia today - I am surely suffering from this malady/sin, and I want to deal with it! I will continue to work on my evening devotions, but some of my daily agenda stuff needs to change. Writing a sermon all in one day (Thursday) to preach on Saturday really isn't working! I need to come up with a better pattern, that still fits with the girls' and our family schedules.
5. Where do you most long to see resurrection, in your life and/or in the world, this Easter?
Ah. I long to feel an inner spring that has nothing to do with the miserable weather. I long to be a more empathetic mom. I long to become a better preacher and really feel I have a good word to give to the people each week. I long for our church to know how much it has to offer, and to offer that to the world.
Bonus: Share a favorite scripture, prayer, poem, artwork, or musical selection that speaks Lenten spring to your heart.
This song came up on my iPod this morning and I realized it is all about where I am right now:
The words really fit my life, and how I feel, straying again and again,
Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.
2. Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.
3. O to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.
Thank you Sophia!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Lent
Lent. The concept of repentance and making new are really resonating with me this year. I have some habits that I know I need to break, or to at least change, and I am trying so hard to do so. But the ruts are worn so deep, the responses are almost unconscious. I cannot do this on my own, but I guess that is the point, isn't it? Even Jesus had the angels ministering to him in the desert.
I pray that I will find some angels to help me through the wilderness.
I pray that I will find some angels to help me through the wilderness.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Signs and Covenants - Lent 1B
It was probably the most sick and scared and ready to die I have ever been in my life. It was in January of 1986, in the North Atlantic Ocean several hundred miles off the coast of Bermuda. I was part of a research team on the research vessel Oceanus out of Woods Hole, Massachusetts. We left the Sargasso Sea after we were done with our sampling. Then we were hit by this severe winter storm. And now we were in the middle of it. A little 170 foot boat listing 16 degrees on a side, waves washing over the deck so badly that we had to change our heading so we wouldn’t capsize. I just wanted to get back home.
In the fall of 1984, I had tried to meet with my freshman college advisor and was told “he’s on a cruise”. At first I thought “cruise” meant vacation, lots of food, suntanning. But no, going on research cruises was part of his work! I immediately decided I would find out more about this profession of chemical oceanography.
And so, 18 months later, here I was. I didn’t realize that I would get terribly and violently seasick as soon as the ship left the harbor. And now, in the midst of this terrible storm, I just wanted everything to stop moving! I tried going downstairs to my cabin but that just seemed to make things worse. Finally, I went up to the bridge. The captain took one look at me and said “There’s only one thing you can do. Keep above decks – and keep looking up toward the horizon” I went outside to the deck, grabbed a rope, and lay on top of a wooden crate. I forced myself to look out and up at the horizon, and I prayed that I would make it through the next hours. And finally, I started to feel a little better. Looking out at the sky, I felt that the world was more than the heaving and tossing waves surrounding our little boat. The sky, gray as it was, was a sign for me that we were going somewhere.
But nothing compared to the next morning, when I awoke to find the ship slowly cruising back into the Woods Hole harbor. Land! The sight of land on the horizon was one of the sweetest views I have ever experienced. It had only been a six day cruise, but six days surrounded by a heaving ocean were more than enough for me.
Have you ever been on a ship on the ocean, or maybe even one of the Great Lakes, where you have gone far enough away from land that you are surrounded by nothing but water? It can be a frightening experience, with the seas rising and falling in a never ending rhythm around you.
Our Old Testament story for today is the last part of the story of Noah. Almost all ancient societies tell a similar story, of a great flood, waters covering the earth. But the story of the Hebrews is unique, because the story doesn’t end with a ferocious God being conquered. God’s power is still present at the end of the story – God’s bow, unstrung, placed in the sky, facing upwards instead of towards humanity, no longer a weapon of destruction but a sign of promise. God’s choice – to make a promise to Noah, to Noah’s descendents, and even to all of the animals who had been with Noah on the ark.
In our passage for today, God is the only one who speaks. Noah makes no response, and is asked for no reply, to God’s promise. God simply tells Noah “what I just did, I will never do again. I covenant with you and with all living creatures to never again destroy the earth.” Never again will the entire earth be covered in water. Never again will only a small remnant remain of God’s creation.
The rainbow is a sign – a sign of the first covenant between God and humanity, as recorded in the Hebrew Bible. That word, “covenant” isn’t one we hear very often today. A covenant is a promise, but more than a promise. In the study guide for the Disciple Bible Study series, the author defines the word covenant like this:
Covenant is not contract. Covenant is an agreement worked out between two parties. Covenant means a binding pact between God and God’s people.
A binding pact between God and God’s people. And a rainbow for a sign.
Can you remember the first time you saw a rainbow? We don’t see them very often here in northeast MidwestState. According to the website for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association, three things have to happen in order for you to see a rainbow: (1) the sun has to be lower than 42 degrees from the horizon, (2) You have to be facing rain, and have the sun behind you, and (3) the sunlight has to be hitting the raindrops to produce the prism of colors that make up the rainbow. My husband will tell you that the rainbow effect depends on the raindrops having a near-perfect spherical shape, and the number and size of the drops is very important. With all of those requirements, it seems amazing that we can see them at all.
Sometimes God’s signs are hard for us to see. Sometimes, it seems like God is not really giving us any signs at all. Have you ever looked for a sign from God and had trouble finding it, trouble seeing your way out of the wilderness? When I was on that boat in the middle of the ocean, the gray sky was the only sign that I wasn’t completely surrounded by water – I saw no sign that the storm was going to end. Sometimes God does God’s work without a sign, it seems. Sometimes we have to make the signs ourselves, with God’s help, to let others know that God is present. Sometimes, when we take the time to make the sign, God shows up in the midst of it.
We’ve been talking about signs quite a bit in the new Marketing Committee here at the church that was formed at the beginning of the year. This year marks the 40th anniversary of the building of the chapel, this wonderful space where we get to worship together every week. And yet, if you are standing outside the church on Number Street, you won’t see any signs that announce the presence of this space. We have a big sign that says who we are, SmallCity First United Methodist Church, and our address, CCC Number Street, but nothing that says the sanctuary is over there, and the chapel is over here. We have a little sign that we put out by the door on Saturday nights announcing our service, but nothing permanent. I hope that soon we will be able to have a sign that tells the world, or at least that part of the world that drives or walks down Number Street, that there is a chapel here, and we have a great time together worshipping on Saturday evenings – and invites people to come on in!
God gives Noah his promise after he endures the trial of the flood. For Jesus, it was, rather, the opposite. You might remember that we read the story of Jesus’ baptism just seven weeks ago, but then, we stopped our reading at verse 11 – “You are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.” Today, we take the reading further, as we hear that immediately (Mark’s favorite word again) after he was baptized, the Spirit drove Jesus into the wilderness, where he remained for 40 days. This story comes at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, before Jesus has, as far as we know, done anything at all to merit God’s favor. Jesus appears on the scene where a crowd has gathered to be baptized by John. Jesus joins the crowd, and with them is baptized, and then, God tells him how much he is loved.
We don’t know much about Jesus’ time in the wilderness from this passage in Mark. We know that he was tempted by Satan, was with the wild beasts, and was waited on by angels. And we know his time in the wilderness was the same length of time as the flood, and of our Lenten journey – 40 days. What signs did Jesus look for when he was in the wilderness? How did he know his Father was with him? Was he able to trust in the word he had just received, that he was the Beloved Son?
What gets you through your wilderness times? We all have them, don’t we? Times when we aren’t really sure where we are going. Times when God seems more distant than present. Times of loss, times of struggle. Maybe you are in one of those times right now.
I vividly remember Lent back in 1996 – 13 years ago now. We had lost our son, who was born still, on February 2 of that year. In a couple of weeks, my body began to return to normal, but I didn’t. I went back to work, but it was hard for me to concentrate on anything. I found myself thinking about Michael, as we had named him, almost all the time. We were fortunate to have a pastor who could tell us that grief doesn’t have a time table – that we weren’t supposed to “get over” our loss in a short period of time. Lent for me that year lasted more than 40 days – but in that wilderness, there were signs. People who had been through similar experiences – who shared our pain with us. A pastor who made time to talk with us and grieve with us, and let us know that we were not going nuts. Sometimes, even just a beautiful sunny day.
And the sacraments of the church. Sacraments are signs – one definition of a sacrament is “an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.” For us in the United Methodist Church, we recognize two sacraments of the church – two special signs that we “do” – knowing that God works in and through them. These are baptism and communion. The sacraments are tangible signs of God’s presence among us – the water of baptism reminding us of God’s spirit working in and through us – water, like the water that represented chaos in the flood, used by God instead to cleanse and renew us. And the bread and the juice we use for communion – signs of Christ’s body and blood, representing God’s self giving in Jesus Christ. Indeed, the visible hallmark of the worship experience is the giving and receiving of signs of God's love. From the songs we sing and hear, to the handshakes and hugs we exchange, to the cross on the altar. We know God is in this place. We know because we see the signs. This is why we are here, so that we can see the signs of God, so that we can remember the covenant of love. In my wilderness times, I come back again and again to receive communion, the Eucharist, literally the sign of thanksgiving. By this body and blood, I am healed.
As we enter the season of Lent, our liturgical walk in the wilderness, 40 days before we arrive at the joy of Easter, we are asked to turn inward. We are asked to assess our lives, to reflect on how we have responded to God's will. Sometimes, when we do this, we find ourselves looking into bleak and dark corners, things about ourselves and our lives that are painful, things that cause us fear, things that make us feel poorly about who we are and what we are worth – wilderness places. During Lent we are asked to face these dark corners of our lives. We are asked to shine a light into these corners, to sweep out the heartache and the dust, and to open the doors to the coming Spring of God's love and acceptance. This is not easy work. And we cannot do it without God's signs.
We need the signs. We seem to be built this way, don't we? Throughout our entire live, every day, we need to be reminded of the fundamental nature of God's unconditional love for each of us. This is our weakness and our strength: we keep forgetting about God's love. We keep falling into darkness and despair. And yet, all we need to climb out of our dark hole once again is just one little sign from God. One little reminder, and we can be back in the light of love.
Thank God for the signs of love. Thank God for the rainbow. Thank God for the dry land. Thank God for the bread of life, the cup of salvation, and all of the signs that lead us from darkness and hunger to love and light as we walk in the wilderness of life. Thank God for the signs of God’s covenants with us.
Amen.
In the fall of 1984, I had tried to meet with my freshman college advisor and was told “he’s on a cruise”. At first I thought “cruise” meant vacation, lots of food, suntanning. But no, going on research cruises was part of his work! I immediately decided I would find out more about this profession of chemical oceanography.
And so, 18 months later, here I was. I didn’t realize that I would get terribly and violently seasick as soon as the ship left the harbor. And now, in the midst of this terrible storm, I just wanted everything to stop moving! I tried going downstairs to my cabin but that just seemed to make things worse. Finally, I went up to the bridge. The captain took one look at me and said “There’s only one thing you can do. Keep above decks – and keep looking up toward the horizon” I went outside to the deck, grabbed a rope, and lay on top of a wooden crate. I forced myself to look out and up at the horizon, and I prayed that I would make it through the next hours. And finally, I started to feel a little better. Looking out at the sky, I felt that the world was more than the heaving and tossing waves surrounding our little boat. The sky, gray as it was, was a sign for me that we were going somewhere.
But nothing compared to the next morning, when I awoke to find the ship slowly cruising back into the Woods Hole harbor. Land! The sight of land on the horizon was one of the sweetest views I have ever experienced. It had only been a six day cruise, but six days surrounded by a heaving ocean were more than enough for me.
Have you ever been on a ship on the ocean, or maybe even one of the Great Lakes, where you have gone far enough away from land that you are surrounded by nothing but water? It can be a frightening experience, with the seas rising and falling in a never ending rhythm around you.
Our Old Testament story for today is the last part of the story of Noah. Almost all ancient societies tell a similar story, of a great flood, waters covering the earth. But the story of the Hebrews is unique, because the story doesn’t end with a ferocious God being conquered. God’s power is still present at the end of the story – God’s bow, unstrung, placed in the sky, facing upwards instead of towards humanity, no longer a weapon of destruction but a sign of promise. God’s choice – to make a promise to Noah, to Noah’s descendents, and even to all of the animals who had been with Noah on the ark.
In our passage for today, God is the only one who speaks. Noah makes no response, and is asked for no reply, to God’s promise. God simply tells Noah “what I just did, I will never do again. I covenant with you and with all living creatures to never again destroy the earth.” Never again will the entire earth be covered in water. Never again will only a small remnant remain of God’s creation.
The rainbow is a sign – a sign of the first covenant between God and humanity, as recorded in the Hebrew Bible. That word, “covenant” isn’t one we hear very often today. A covenant is a promise, but more than a promise. In the study guide for the Disciple Bible Study series, the author defines the word covenant like this:
Covenant is not contract. Covenant is an agreement worked out between two parties. Covenant means a binding pact between God and God’s people.
A binding pact between God and God’s people. And a rainbow for a sign.
Can you remember the first time you saw a rainbow? We don’t see them very often here in northeast MidwestState. According to the website for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association, three things have to happen in order for you to see a rainbow: (1) the sun has to be lower than 42 degrees from the horizon, (2) You have to be facing rain, and have the sun behind you, and (3) the sunlight has to be hitting the raindrops to produce the prism of colors that make up the rainbow. My husband will tell you that the rainbow effect depends on the raindrops having a near-perfect spherical shape, and the number and size of the drops is very important. With all of those requirements, it seems amazing that we can see them at all.
Sometimes God’s signs are hard for us to see. Sometimes, it seems like God is not really giving us any signs at all. Have you ever looked for a sign from God and had trouble finding it, trouble seeing your way out of the wilderness? When I was on that boat in the middle of the ocean, the gray sky was the only sign that I wasn’t completely surrounded by water – I saw no sign that the storm was going to end. Sometimes God does God’s work without a sign, it seems. Sometimes we have to make the signs ourselves, with God’s help, to let others know that God is present. Sometimes, when we take the time to make the sign, God shows up in the midst of it.
We’ve been talking about signs quite a bit in the new Marketing Committee here at the church that was formed at the beginning of the year. This year marks the 40th anniversary of the building of the chapel, this wonderful space where we get to worship together every week. And yet, if you are standing outside the church on Number Street, you won’t see any signs that announce the presence of this space. We have a big sign that says who we are, SmallCity First United Methodist Church, and our address, CCC Number Street, but nothing that says the sanctuary is over there, and the chapel is over here. We have a little sign that we put out by the door on Saturday nights announcing our service, but nothing permanent. I hope that soon we will be able to have a sign that tells the world, or at least that part of the world that drives or walks down Number Street, that there is a chapel here, and we have a great time together worshipping on Saturday evenings – and invites people to come on in!
God gives Noah his promise after he endures the trial of the flood. For Jesus, it was, rather, the opposite. You might remember that we read the story of Jesus’ baptism just seven weeks ago, but then, we stopped our reading at verse 11 – “You are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.” Today, we take the reading further, as we hear that immediately (Mark’s favorite word again) after he was baptized, the Spirit drove Jesus into the wilderness, where he remained for 40 days. This story comes at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, before Jesus has, as far as we know, done anything at all to merit God’s favor. Jesus appears on the scene where a crowd has gathered to be baptized by John. Jesus joins the crowd, and with them is baptized, and then, God tells him how much he is loved.
We don’t know much about Jesus’ time in the wilderness from this passage in Mark. We know that he was tempted by Satan, was with the wild beasts, and was waited on by angels. And we know his time in the wilderness was the same length of time as the flood, and of our Lenten journey – 40 days. What signs did Jesus look for when he was in the wilderness? How did he know his Father was with him? Was he able to trust in the word he had just received, that he was the Beloved Son?
What gets you through your wilderness times? We all have them, don’t we? Times when we aren’t really sure where we are going. Times when God seems more distant than present. Times of loss, times of struggle. Maybe you are in one of those times right now.
I vividly remember Lent back in 1996 – 13 years ago now. We had lost our son, who was born still, on February 2 of that year. In a couple of weeks, my body began to return to normal, but I didn’t. I went back to work, but it was hard for me to concentrate on anything. I found myself thinking about Michael, as we had named him, almost all the time. We were fortunate to have a pastor who could tell us that grief doesn’t have a time table – that we weren’t supposed to “get over” our loss in a short period of time. Lent for me that year lasted more than 40 days – but in that wilderness, there were signs. People who had been through similar experiences – who shared our pain with us. A pastor who made time to talk with us and grieve with us, and let us know that we were not going nuts. Sometimes, even just a beautiful sunny day.
And the sacraments of the church. Sacraments are signs – one definition of a sacrament is “an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.” For us in the United Methodist Church, we recognize two sacraments of the church – two special signs that we “do” – knowing that God works in and through them. These are baptism and communion. The sacraments are tangible signs of God’s presence among us – the water of baptism reminding us of God’s spirit working in and through us – water, like the water that represented chaos in the flood, used by God instead to cleanse and renew us. And the bread and the juice we use for communion – signs of Christ’s body and blood, representing God’s self giving in Jesus Christ. Indeed, the visible hallmark of the worship experience is the giving and receiving of signs of God's love. From the songs we sing and hear, to the handshakes and hugs we exchange, to the cross on the altar. We know God is in this place. We know because we see the signs. This is why we are here, so that we can see the signs of God, so that we can remember the covenant of love. In my wilderness times, I come back again and again to receive communion, the Eucharist, literally the sign of thanksgiving. By this body and blood, I am healed.
As we enter the season of Lent, our liturgical walk in the wilderness, 40 days before we arrive at the joy of Easter, we are asked to turn inward. We are asked to assess our lives, to reflect on how we have responded to God's will. Sometimes, when we do this, we find ourselves looking into bleak and dark corners, things about ourselves and our lives that are painful, things that cause us fear, things that make us feel poorly about who we are and what we are worth – wilderness places. During Lent we are asked to face these dark corners of our lives. We are asked to shine a light into these corners, to sweep out the heartache and the dust, and to open the doors to the coming Spring of God's love and acceptance. This is not easy work. And we cannot do it without God's signs.
We need the signs. We seem to be built this way, don't we? Throughout our entire live, every day, we need to be reminded of the fundamental nature of God's unconditional love for each of us. This is our weakness and our strength: we keep forgetting about God's love. We keep falling into darkness and despair. And yet, all we need to climb out of our dark hole once again is just one little sign from God. One little reminder, and we can be back in the light of love.
Thank God for the signs of love. Thank God for the rainbow. Thank God for the dry land. Thank God for the bread of life, the cup of salvation, and all of the signs that lead us from darkness and hunger to love and light as we walk in the wilderness of life. Thank God for the signs of God’s covenants with us.
Amen.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Fork in the Road Friday Five
Singing Owl over at RevGalBlogPals writes:
I am at a life-changing juncture. I do not know which way I will go, but I have been thinking about the times, people and events that changed my life (for good or ill) in significant ways. For today's Friday Five, share with us five "fork-in-the-road" events, or persons, or choices. And how did life change after these forks in the road
This was one that required some thought! Here are five I can remember:
1. One early fall night, my friend Jennifer invited me to join her at our church's youth group. I was a sophomore in high school, she was a freshman. The group had about 12 members, sometimes more. I went that week and never looked back. The counselors, Mr. and Mrs. "C" were in their 50s then, but they related to us like I had never seen an adult relate to a kid before. I became very, very close to them, and my theology and even political views were formed as I spent a lot of time with them over the next few years. I don't think I would have ever heard my call to ministry if it weren't for this couple, who are now in their late 70s. They literally saved my life several times, when I was down and depressed and didn't know where to turn. God Bless them!
2. On May 22 of my senior year, I was accepted off of the waiting list to Big Name Engineering school. I had already filled out my dorm preference card for Smaller Name school, where I had a full scholarship. But my dad was so excited to see me get into Big Name School, he told me we would figure out how to pay for it. I didn't think I would survive at BNS, and I almost didn't, but I am really, really glad I went there, mostly for #3 below:
3. When I went to college at the Big Name Engineering School, I knew no one. It was Rush Week, my parents dropped me off on the big street by the school, and I was on my own. After seeing all the dorms in a couple of hours, I decided to call the co-ed fraternity where my ex-boyfriend's friend was a member, even though I had only met him once. I went over there on Saturday morning for breakfast, and, you guessed it, never looked back! In this wonderful living group, where I lived for the next four years, I met my three best friends ever, one of whom is my husband Starman, the love of my life for the last 24 years.
4. Starman asked me out on October 5 of my freshman year at BNS. He wasn't my ideal picture of a boyfriend - I was very preppy back in 1984, and he still was part of the "hippy" look - long hair, flare pants. He wasn't tall, he wasn't muscular. But he had great eyes and we seemed to have an endless supply of things to talk about. I said yes. By December I knew I wanted to marry him. I have never dated anyone else for more than a month. He still isn't a great dresser, but he has short hair now. And he can fix just about anything that breaks. And we still have an endless supply of things to talk about!
5. In 1995, we decided it was time to have some children. Got pregnant fast the first time, but lost 5 babies through miscarriage and stillbirth in about 3 years. Each time, we had to decide whether we wanted to try again, whether it was worth the possibility of heartbreak. After all those losses, the doctors finally figured out the formula, which included bedrest, two heparin shots and a baby aspirin every day, a cerclage at 12 weeks, progesterone shots daily through twelve weeks and modified bedrest. Oh, and constant unrelenting nausea necessitating trips to the emergency room. We did it three times, and it worked three times. I am so glad we didn't give up!
Of course, deciding to give up consulting engineering for seminary was another choice, and there of course were more after that, but these are 5 big ones. This question reminds me of my favorite poem, by Robert Frost, and I will leave you with that:
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy, and wanted wear,
Although for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I left the first for another day
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back
Oh, I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood and I
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.
Thank you Singing Owl!
I am at a life-changing juncture. I do not know which way I will go, but I have been thinking about the times, people and events that changed my life (for good or ill) in significant ways. For today's Friday Five, share with us five "fork-in-the-road" events, or persons, or choices. And how did life change after these forks in the road
This was one that required some thought! Here are five I can remember:
1. One early fall night, my friend Jennifer invited me to join her at our church's youth group. I was a sophomore in high school, she was a freshman. The group had about 12 members, sometimes more. I went that week and never looked back. The counselors, Mr. and Mrs. "C" were in their 50s then, but they related to us like I had never seen an adult relate to a kid before. I became very, very close to them, and my theology and even political views were formed as I spent a lot of time with them over the next few years. I don't think I would have ever heard my call to ministry if it weren't for this couple, who are now in their late 70s. They literally saved my life several times, when I was down and depressed and didn't know where to turn. God Bless them!
2. On May 22 of my senior year, I was accepted off of the waiting list to Big Name Engineering school. I had already filled out my dorm preference card for Smaller Name school, where I had a full scholarship. But my dad was so excited to see me get into Big Name School, he told me we would figure out how to pay for it. I didn't think I would survive at BNS, and I almost didn't, but I am really, really glad I went there, mostly for #3 below:
3. When I went to college at the Big Name Engineering School, I knew no one. It was Rush Week, my parents dropped me off on the big street by the school, and I was on my own. After seeing all the dorms in a couple of hours, I decided to call the co-ed fraternity where my ex-boyfriend's friend was a member, even though I had only met him once. I went over there on Saturday morning for breakfast, and, you guessed it, never looked back! In this wonderful living group, where I lived for the next four years, I met my three best friends ever, one of whom is my husband Starman, the love of my life for the last 24 years.
4. Starman asked me out on October 5 of my freshman year at BNS. He wasn't my ideal picture of a boyfriend - I was very preppy back in 1984, and he still was part of the "hippy" look - long hair, flare pants. He wasn't tall, he wasn't muscular. But he had great eyes and we seemed to have an endless supply of things to talk about. I said yes. By December I knew I wanted to marry him. I have never dated anyone else for more than a month. He still isn't a great dresser, but he has short hair now. And he can fix just about anything that breaks. And we still have an endless supply of things to talk about!
5. In 1995, we decided it was time to have some children. Got pregnant fast the first time, but lost 5 babies through miscarriage and stillbirth in about 3 years. Each time, we had to decide whether we wanted to try again, whether it was worth the possibility of heartbreak. After all those losses, the doctors finally figured out the formula, which included bedrest, two heparin shots and a baby aspirin every day, a cerclage at 12 weeks, progesterone shots daily through twelve weeks and modified bedrest. Oh, and constant unrelenting nausea necessitating trips to the emergency room. We did it three times, and it worked three times. I am so glad we didn't give up!
Of course, deciding to give up consulting engineering for seminary was another choice, and there of course were more after that, but these are 5 big ones. This question reminds me of my favorite poem, by Robert Frost, and I will leave you with that:
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy, and wanted wear,
Although for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I left the first for another day
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back
Oh, I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood and I
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.
Thank you Singing Owl!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)